


Hobby Criminal Bucky Barnes

by agentexmachina



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A Pigeon Named Zach, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-05 11:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14617947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentexmachina/pseuds/agentexmachina
Summary: Bucky Barnes, former(?) hitman, lives in a cabin by the forest and tries to escape his past. Then he meets Steve.





	1. Chapter 1

"Just tell me what you want, one dollar, maybe two? Please name your price and I’ll pay it but it’s really important to me that you don’t tell anyone," Bucky growled, giving the man his best very-serious-hobby-criminal glare. Pulling his mask down so the guy would understand him clearly, he leaned closer and, drawing out the syllables as threateningly as possible, whispered "No fucking police."

Blue-eyes’ eyebrows almost touched his hairline as he slowly raised his hands over his head and Bucky smugly noted that can’t-fit-my-shoulders-in-this-small-alley looked impressed. Terrified, even, if he looked close enough. Well, who wouldn’t be, in the face of his glorious acting skills? 

"No reason to be so formal, goldilocks, I’m just your local hitman and occasional deliveryman. Still down to earth, unlike the quinoa-eaters from the wholesome suburbs who charge you a hundred bucks for the mayors head. Back in my days we did this shit for free, damn it was an honor to be chosen when half of the other boys could really use the reputation you earn from choking a fish this big. Good ol’ times," he mumbled, having to suppress a snort. "Point being, I don’t need some class two hit like you begging for his pathetic life to feel validated. Because true self-respect comes from the inside, you listening?" What could possibly be so interesting that one would miss out on his critically acclaimed (if the reaction of the pigeon that lived on his roof was anything to go by) motivational speeches? "Look me in the eyes and tell me that you have been listening."

"Sorry," artsy-diplomatic-bodybuilder-pacifist answered seriously. "I did not mean to offend you nor hurt your feelings. Staying consistent with your career choice is hard nowadays and I’m sorry to hear that you’re struggling to make ends meet. How about I give you these twenty dollars and you buy yourself a nice meal?" His face scrunched up apologetically and he reached for his back pocket, presumably trying to pull out his wallet. "I know it’s not much but please don’t eat this sandwich, I think that’s some mold on the salad."

How dare he?

"Firstly, I have enough money to pay for my own food, so thanks but no thanks. Secondly, how dare you assume that this is simply some moldy sandwich I fished from the trash? That’s a finest quality well-aged treat you can only find in this specific trash can. I know my trash, just so you know, and I can see right through you." Annoyed, Bucky waved the sandwich in front of the huge strangers face. He did not feel intimidated at all, obviously. "Tell me you wouldn’t do anything for a treat like this."

Don’t lose your cool, Barnes, you have managed to talk yourself out of the awkward mafia boss wants to know why his daughter asked him to adopt the quote ‘sad homeless guy that tried to plant some vegetables in my boyfriend’s backyard’ unquote situation so convincing this man that he totally wasn’t homeless couldn’t be too hard. After all, Bucky had a roof over his head (perks of having a good reputation in the local hitmen community: there was always some guy who would let you live in his summer house in exchange for a small favor) and a lovely roofmate, Zach the pigeon. He wasn’t even doing anything illegal right now and the vegetable incident had only happened because he had felt bad about stealing a few tomatoes after he had just arrived in the city and had been starving.

The man, however, only furrowed his brows and continued to hold out the twenty dollar bill. "Please take it, that’s the least I can do after I scared you like this," he answered and his voice sounded so sincere that Bucky wanted to turn around and empty whatever still was in his stomach after going hungry for three days in the trash can and then cleanse his ears with acid. But instead, Bucky’s stomach growled and he felt his face flush bright red. He realized that the longer this conversation was going, the more he was proving oh-so-warm-and-caring-voice’s point, so he, with the most dignity he could muster in this situation, snatched the bill from the guy’s hand and, using the moment of surprise, slipped under his arm, out of the alley. Before Bucky turned to the right and out of the guy’s sight, he looked over his shoulder for a last time and yelled "I’m keeping the money as a compensation for you wasting my time but I certainly don’t need it – so don’t pat yourself on the shoulder thinking you have done a good deed or something!" and finally left the confused man behind.

The adrenaline was starting to wear off around the time Bucky arrived at the small cabin he had been calling his home for the past few weeks. Since he had basically run all the way from the center of the city to the garden that was located next to the forest, about five miles from the alley, he was exhausted and covered in sweat. The encounter in the alley had been his first human interaction in two weeks and thus he was (reasonably, if he had a say in the matter) stressed out. When he had seen the huge man appear in front of him, blocking every possible way of escape with his huge body, Bucky thought that would be it. The organization had tracked him down and would kill him or, even worse, take him back. Bucky was in no way helpless or weak, but they had means to force him to do whatever they wanted him to do and they had used them on him in the past. Before he escaped, Bucky reminded himself, although he couldn’t suppress a shiver at the memory. Yet the stranger had not looked threatening at all, despite his body that seemed to take up the entire alley. Of course Bucky had been scared at first, but the feeling had disappeared the moment he had needed to take the man’s clothes, body language and facial expression into account. Everything about him had seemed so honest and sincere that Bucky’s biggest worry had suddenly been perfect-law-abiding-citizen calling the police on him.

With a sight, Bucky sank down on the worn out mattress that took up most of the floor. Worrying about something that had not happened and a man he would never see again was a waste of time and Bucky’s eyelids were getting heavier with every second. 

\---

Bucky woke up to his stomach growling angrily. Groaning, he propped himself up, eyes still half closed, hands searching for the sandwich he must have dropped the night before. When his fingers finally found it, he hastily removed the moldy salad before taking a bite. It tasted delicious. Without chewing, he gulped the bite down and took another, and another. Last night, he had been more tired than hungry, if that was even possible, but now he could only think about getting some food in his system. The day before Bucky had been sleep deprived and hungry but now that he could think straight again, he immediately regretted everything he had done when he had been confronted with the man in the alley. It had worked, sure, but telling the man that he was a hitman? Bucky could only hope that the man thought it had been a joke. 

Still tired, he got up and opened the window to let some fresh air in. As the sun had not risen yet and there was no electricity in the cabin, it was still dark and Bucky decided that it was the perfect time to wash in the river behind the fields because nobody would see him in the darkness. He really didn’t need any more trouble than he already had, least of all have a concerned neighbor find out about the homeless man living in the cabin by the forest. 

Bucky picked up his towel and left the cabin, pulling the door shut behind him. From the roof, he could hear Zach cooing. It was not even mating season.


	2. Chapter 2

After Bucky had cleaned himself of the dirt he had not been able to wash off for the last three days, he almost felt like a new person. His job should have been simple enough: find the man, deliver the letter. The client had seemed trustworthy and the pay hadn’t been too bad but somehow the guy had managed to leave out the fact that the recipient of the letter lived in a lonely hut in the mountains, far away from any civilization. Bucky wasn’t one to judge (his own living situation wasn’t much different, anyway) but the whole thing had been kind of suspicious. However, Bucky had already received the money, so he had decided that some hiking would be a nice change from the usual routine, which mainly consisted of him lying on rooftops or crouching down behind trash cans, waiting for the poor soul that had made one enemy too many to show up. 

Yet one and a half weeks of hiking later, during which Bucky had used up all of his food and had walked a hole in one of his shoes, he had found the house to be empty. It must have been abandoned a long time ago because a thick layer of dust covered every single piece of furniture and what Bucky believed had once been a basket of fruits was rotting on the dining table. Next to it he had found a card, which he, covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve, had opened to read. Unexpectedly, there had not been a single line of text in it. Only a scribble depicting a skull with six tentacles. 

Bucky had immediately left the house and hotwired the car, driving as far as he could before he ran out of gas. He tried not to think about the fact that the previous owner of the vehicle was probably (Bucky hoped for the guy that this was the case) dead now. A few train rides and long runs later, Bucky was finally back in his city and then he had met the blond guy with paint everywhere on his clothes and a sketchbook poking out of his messenger bag. Looking back, he had handled the situation surprisingly well, if one counted not having to get rid of a corpse as a success.

Thus, after Bucky had dried his hair and put his clothes back on, he returned to the garden that was connected to the summer house. As he had just spent two weeks on a job, he really deserved a rest and could afford to take a break. Therefore, he pulled a warm sweater out of the drawer someone had put out on the street for it to be collected by the garbage disposal. It was still perfectly functional and Bucky only had to replace the handles to be able to use it again. His skill in finding things others had thrown away but which were still useable, as well as repairing broken things was one of his few character traits that hadn’t changed over the years. His ability to keep functioning if his life was in danger, however, had. Had he found a trace of the organization a few months ago, he certainly wouldn’t be tending to his red cabbage only three days later. 

The days were beginning to get shorter and darker but Bucky had already sown the seeds of some winter vegetables in May, so he was prepared. His crops were growing nicely and Bucky was glad that it had rained a few times while he was gone and that Ed had apparently checked on the garden, as a hole in the fleece that Bucky used to cover his carrots and protect them from carrot flies had been repaired. While Bucky was removing yellow leaves from the cabbage and watering the onions, he noticed that Ed must also have picked some weed because the soil looked exceptionally clean, considering Bucky had been gone for about two weeks. Securing the cover over the carrots again, he let a small smile appear on his face. On days like these, he couldn’t be happier to have at least one friend and he made a mental note to pay Ed a visit later to tell him that he had returned from the job. 

After Bucky had finished caring for his plants, he sat down on the bench in front of the cabin that had probably been painted yellow once but the paint had peeled off to a degree he could no longer tell what color it had once been. Despite the cool gusts of wind that tousled his hair every few minutes and made him disappear deeper in his sweater, Bucky was content to just sit on the brittle bench in the garden and enjoy the peace and quiet.

Only after the sun had risen, painting the earth yellow and orange, did Bucky feel ready to start the day. 

By the time he was pulling on a fresh pair of jeans and tying his shoes, Bucky had his plans for the day sorted out. Firstly, buy some blankets and food. He was not going to freeze to death when winter came around and, although there was nothing wrong with eating the food bakeries and grocery stores threw away, as long as he didn’t take it from private property, he should probably avoid another incident like the night before. Secondly, look for a job. Bucky did have a social security number and a driver’s license from before but nobody wanted to hire a guy who hadn’t finished high school and had no job experience whatsoever. Thirdly, meet up with Ed. This was honestly what he looked forward to the most but as Ed worked a regular nine-to-five job, he could only visit him in the evening.

Letting a sigh escape his lips, Bucky stepped outside and got his rusty and creaking bike from under the shelter he had built in the summer, got on and started riding towards the city. This was going to be another long day.

Bucky’s little shopping trip had been pretty uneventful but he already felt completely drained when he was dropping off the blankets he had bought at the discount shop and sorted the bread, vegetables and fruits, as well canned beans and rice in the cupboard. Paying for his stuff and telling friendly salespeople that ‘no, he didn’t need any help’ was more human interaction than he had gotten used to, especially with strangers. Bucky had once used to thrive on this, talking to people, helping people, selling them whatever he wanted to, only using his quick wits. But like so many things about him, his ability to charm people with his words had changed. Nowadays, he needed to use much more energy for something that had once come naturally to him.

Finding a job had become just as hard and he didn’t mean the kind of job that required him to wait in someone’s bushes with a wire and a bag big enough to fit a regular sized adult in. He had kind of given up on this months ago, though, and now he only punched people in the face who had kicked someone’s dog or had done something equally evil. The demand for this sort of job was surprisingly high. It was not the most profitable business but Bucky was grateful for every opportunity to earn some money that he didn’t have to give away is personal data for and possibly lead them or anybody he might have offended over the years to him (although Bucky believed that the second group of people were overreacting because weren’t they glad as well that their smelly uncle Joe would never have the chance to harm a child ever again? Apparently not, though he was not going to lie, this hadn’t been the only king of job he had taken).

Hopefully Arthur would have a job for him that did not involve hiking trips or Bucky would have to clean toilets again. Bucky’s mobile phone looked like it was from another decade (it was) but it still worked perfectly fine so he dialed Arthur’s number and held the phone to his ear. A few seconds later, Arthur picked up.

“Barnes, time’s got so rough you’re calling me again? I hear you’re still dumpster diving, has your sugar daddy dumped you?” a loud voice assaulted Bucky’s ears. Suddenly he remembered why he preferred cleaning toilets.

“Hey man,” Bucked answered, scrunching up his face in a pained grimace Arthur luckily could not see, “you know how it is, once you lose your street cred by making friends with the birds even the cool kids won’t take you under their wings anymore. I still remember my best friend in elementary school telling me to “just grow wings and fly away” after I explained the importance of pigeons to humanity to him and how the little guy he just kicked might have been the next G.I. Joe – in another time. Of course my sugar daddy had to break up with me after he found out my dirty little secret. I loved birds more than him.”  
And, as conversationally as possible, he added “So, how do you know about the dumpster diving thing?”

“Relatable,” Arthur snorted, “but you can’t bullshit me, Barnes.” 

Aaron calling him ‘Barnes’ like they were in some stupid gangster movie was definitely the most annoying thing about him, Bucky decided. If they hadn’t known each other for years he wouldn’t even know his real name and this was how he decided to abuse his privilege? 

“I have this very trustworthy secret friend, Natasha,” Arthur continued, “and she told me that a friend of her stumbled upon a dirty guy in a ratty hoodie fishing a moldy sandwich out of the trash in a dark alley last night. Of course I knew it was you.”

“You know me too well,” Bucky commented dryly.

“Don’t I? Anyways, you’re probably calling me because you need a job and I have just the right thing for you. A nice grandma I know is being harassed by some youngsters and she asked me to find her someone to protect her. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t need any protection as I have once seen her flip a guy who was trying to steal her handbag on his back but I guess she doesn’t want to scare the old ladies in her knitting community. She will pay in money and baked goods, so, you up for it?”

Bucky had to admit that this didn’t sound too bad and the job seemed to be perfect for him, indeed. Add freshly baked goods and Bucky would do about anything. 

“Sure, what’s her address?”

“Brilliant! I knew you would like this,” Arthur exclaimed, “but make sure to dress nicely for once? I don’t want anything to happen to you and you shouldn’t risk her mistaking you for a thug.” 

Rolling his eyes, Bucky scribbled the address Arthur dictated to him down and stuffed the piece of paper in his back pocket. 

“Thanks” Bucky said and he meant it. After a short moment of contemplation he added “About the guy in the alley-“

“You have a crush, Barnes?” Bucky could almost see Arthur grinning but this was ridiculous. Bucky didn’t do crushes. Even if he did, dumpster-guy wouldn’t be his first choice (yes, he was aware that he was actually the dumpster-guy but at least he’d had a totally rational reason to be there).  
“Forget it, I’m sure you have a knitting meeting to attend to,” Bucky replied quickly and hung up before Arthur could answer.  
Great Barnes, very mature, he thought and then cursed himself for using his own last name. Arthur really was a bad influence. 

Nevertheless, Bucky was proud of himself. He now had a job and thanks to his great time planning he still had some time left before going to visit Ed, who would return from work in a few hours.

Pulling a notebook out of the bag pack he had thrown on the box he used to store away his blankets, pillows and camping mat almost carelessly, he began writing down the memory about his former best friend and his fascination with birds that had just returned to him.  
Then, Bucky made the most obvious choice and decided to reward himself with a nap. He couldn’t sleep for more than a few hours anyways, either because he was awoken by nightmares or by any quiet sound, so oversleeping wouldn’t be a problem.

\---

As expected, he woke up only two hours later and quietly thanked Zach for being very vocal about his happiness. A pigeon on the roof was better than an alarm clock, after all. 

Fortunately, Ed lived only about twenty minutes of brisk walking away from the garden. He did not use it, though, but as he had inherited from his grandma he had been reluctant to sell it. So when Bucky had appeared on his doorstep and asked about the favor Ed had promised him years ago, Ed had let him live in the summer house and grow vegetables in the garden. He could not have born it if the garden had been consumed by weeds, he had said. Back then, neither of them would have expected their relationship to grow into the friendship it currently was. 

When Bucky raised his hand to knock on Ed’s door after a short walk through the fields, the door was already being opened and Ed greeted him with a big smile that almost seemed to split his face in half. Ed had the kind of quick and sharp smile that many popular and outgoing men had, there was, however, something in his eyes that made people keep their distance. Unlike them, Bucky was not bothered by it and he offered a small, awkward wave in return. 

“Hey, I’m back. Just thought I’d stop by so maybe we can catch up?”

“Of course, come in," Ed answered promptly. "I just made food, can I offer you some?” 

“Yeah, food would be nice,” Bucky said and stepped inside, carefully avoiding bumping into Ed in the process. 

While he was sitting down at the dining table, Ed had already launched into a lengthy explanation of the complex relationship two of his colleagues had going and how he planned to sabotage it, and Bucky could simply relax and feel unconditionally welcomed by his friend. He would talk about his own experiences and maybe throw in some witty comments later (and talk Ed out of his mischievous plans; as far as he could assess the situation, Harold and Daisy just deserved some happiness and a goddamn date) but for the moment he enjoyed being accepted and feeling at ease for once.


End file.
